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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134013">Victuuri Soulmate AU Collection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnOfTomorrow/pseuds/DawnOfTomorrow'>DawnOfTomorrow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, AU - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Different Soulmate Scenarios, Emotions, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, oneshots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:42:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnOfTomorrow/pseuds/DawnOfTomorrow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of independent Soulmate AU one-shots. Each chapter is its own story, featuring various soulmate AU scenarios.</p><p>Will occasionally be updated with new, completed one-shots.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri &amp; Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>137</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It's Never Too Late To Find You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That one switched bodies with one’s soulmate for a day on the younger one’s 18<sup>th</sup> birthday was a matter of course. It just happened, at midnight on the dot. Though inconvenient, it was rarely an issue. Jobs like bus drivers, etc all required applicants to have already gone through the change to avoid accidents, and so on.</p><p> </p><p>The traditions were pretty similar across the globe – greeting your soulmate’s family and loved ones, learning about their life and then, in the evening, before it was time to switch back, a phone call or personal conversation if the two parties were close enough. Pretty much everyone was understanding when it came to things like missing work or a doctor’s appointment because of a switch.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, personal inconveniences were another matter entirely. Everyone prepared for their own 18<sup>th</sup> birthday, sure, but only half – the younger half – actually got the chance to really prepare. For the older parties in each soulmate pair, things tended to be less… plannable.</p><p> </p><p>Victor Nikiforov had always assumed that naturally he would be the younger half of his pairing. He hadn’t had any particular expectations of his soulmate… okay, so that wasn’t <em>entirely</em> true – he’d hoped they’d be a good-looking boy not too much older and wouldn’t mind his love for skating – but he’d never even considered that he could be the older one.</p><p> </p><p>His 18<sup>th</sup> birthday had been spent frantically cleaning his flat and everything in it, polishing his medals and making sure he looked his best. He had been so <em>sure</em> of it, when he woke up the next morning in his own body, it took him a little while to understand what had happened.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t switched. He <em>wasn’t</em> the younger party.</p><p> </p><p>It had taken him at least half a day to emotionally accept it – and it frustrated him. He didn’t much like the idea of having to be the older, responsible one… but then and there, he decided to <em>learn</em>. It was for his soulmate after all.</p><p> </p><p>So, before his next performance, he gave himself a haircut – mature, everyone had said so – subscribed to a local newspaper, since that seemed like an adult thing to do… and waited.</p><p> </p><p>He’d never even considered experimenting the way many did once they were past the age of 18, knowing they were the older halves of their pairings. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to his soulmate, who, he was sure, was eagerly awaiting their own 18<sup>th</sup> birthday.</p><p> </p><p>So what if he was a little more… into the whole soulmate thing than other people? He couldn’t wait to meet the person destined for him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri knew, deep down in his soul, that he was the older half of his own soulmate pair. He didn’t know why, he just knew that it suited him better… and anyway, after Yuuko got together with Nishigori a few months before, the appeal of being younger lost its lustre quickly.</p><p> </p><p>When his birthday rolled around, he did… pretty much nothing.</p><p> </p><p>At his parent’s insistence, he penned a note and set it down on his bedside table, but that was it. Why bother preparing for something that wouldn’t happen?</p><p> </p><p>He ignored the nagging voice in his mind that pointed out that he… well, that there was still <em>one</em> unpaired older person he wouldn’t mind belonging with – Victor Nikiforov.</p><p> </p><p>International pairings weren’t unheard of, but Russia-Japan was a LONG distance – it was unusual.</p><p> </p><p>Not that it was a concern, because Yuuri was sure he wasn’t the younger one.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Preparing for something that couldn’t be prepared for was… awkward, to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>Victor had spent years – four, to be exact – trying to do that very thing.</p><p> </p><p>He always kept notes on and around himself, in English, to make sure his soulmate could understand. At least at first. He wasn’t a patient man – by the time two years had passed, it was becoming harder and harder to stay optimistic.</p><p> </p><p>By the third year, he started to wonder if his soulmate had simply died young – it wasn’t common, but it did happen, of course. He refused to believe it, but… but he couldn’t help considering it, from time to time.</p><p> </p><p>By year four… he wasn’t sure WHAT he was thinking, really. Most pairs were only a year apart at most. Even skating – and he had always skated for the other half of his soul – was difficult when all he ever felt was loneliness and insecurity.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, his preparations just… faded. He stopped writing the notes, stopped keeping his room in order. It crept in slowly, but he couldn’t help the sense of defeat that came over time.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t that he wasn’t still waiting for it to happen, he just lost the childish <em>certainty</em> that things would just happen the way he expected them to.</p><p> </p><p>So naturally, when just a few weeks before his 22<sup>nd</sup> birthday, he woke up somewhere… else, he wasn’t ready.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The first thing Yuuri noticed when he woke up was that the ceiling looked weird. Well, that was actually the second thing. The first one was that he could SEE the ceiling. With his prescription glasses, that was… not normal.</p><p> </p><p>Sitting up in bed, he also found that the motion felt unusual – it took him a solid minute of staring down at his hands to figure out <em>he wasn’t in his own body</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The screech that echoed through his soulmate’s flat that morning no doubt terrified his neighbours… it certainly did for the poodle sleeping at the foot of his bed.</p><p> </p><p>He automatically petted and comforted the disturbed animal, frantically trying to work out what was going on – how he could have been so wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Carefully exploring the flat, it was easy enough to find the bathroom… and thus a mirror.</p><p> </p><p>Staring into the horrified face of Victor Nikiforov was NOT how he wanted to celebrate his 18<sup>th</sup> birthday.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor woke up slowly, confused by the fact that Makka wasn’t laying by his feet.</p><p> </p><p>The dog was instead curled against his back. Which… was even weirder because he slept on his chest, normally, not his side.</p><p> </p><p>Rolling around, he reached to pet her – only to find that she had shrunk.</p><p> </p><p>It took him a second to realise that there was a more likely explanation – it wasn’t Makkachin. The hand petting the tiny poodle WASN’T HIS OWN.</p><p> </p><p>The blurry room – apparently his soulmate needed contacts – wasn’t his own.</p><p> </p><p>He had to fight tears as he squinted around, relieved to find glasses on the nightstand.</p><p> </p><p>They helped his vision clear <em>considerably</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t that that made him scream in joy though – it was the discovery of all the posters in the small room.</p><p> </p><p>Posters of HIM.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow… somehow, his soulmate had to have known. Deep down.</p><p> </p><p>He’d never felt happier, nor more humbled by whoever his destined person was. He really couldn’t help it when tears started running down his cheeks after a few moments of looking around – he hastily wiped them away, unwilling to have the first time he saw his soulmate be when they looked sad.</p><p> </p><p>Looking around some more, he found neither a mirror nor a photo – both common things for people to keep nearby on their 18<sup>th</sup> birthday. All there was was a little note, welcoming him to… Hasetsu, Japan?</p><p> </p><p>A knock on his door startled him – who could it be?</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” He called out and the door slid open to reveal a plump and very kind looking middle-aged woman. Asian. A relative? He smiled softly and waved.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you… soulmate?” She asked, clearly struggling with her English some.</p><p> </p><p>Victor practically leaped to the door, stumbling as he did so – his soulmate had shorter legs than him. Cute.</p><p> </p><p>“YES! Hi! I’m Victor! It’s so nice to meet you!”</p><p> </p><p>The woman smiled at his enthusiasm before squinting at him for a second.</p><p> </p><p>“Victor…?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Victor Nikiforov!” He pointed at the nearest poster.</p><p> </p><p>The woman – mother, maybe? Looked back and forth between the poster and him a few times before bursting into laughter – so much so, she apparently attracted two more people – a man her age and a younger woman.</p><p> </p><p>He dearly hoped the younger one was a sibling and not a lover.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly incredibly possessive of his soulmate, he hoped that the laughing woman – or one of the others – would tell him what was so funny.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri was still hyperventilating when someone hammered on a door a little while later. Well-aware that he had to open, even if he was terrified, he went looking for the right door. Behind it was a semi-familiar face – Yakov Feltsman.</p><p> </p><p>Who, apparently, had no problem pushing his way past Yuuri, snarling something in Russian as he did so.</p><p> </p><p>The coach was visibly NOT pleased with him… with Victor.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to interrupt, he really did, but without much success – at least, until he took a closer look at Yuuri. Something seemed to give him pause – enough that Yuuri could finally speak.</p><p> </p><p>“H-Hello? I’m… not Victor?” He squeaked, displeased by how pathetic he made Victor sound.</p><p> </p><p>The other man cursed – he knew enough Russian to understand.</p><p> </p><p>“So it finally happened, huh?” The older man said in accented English.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m… my name is Yuuri Katsuki?” He introduced himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Katsuki… that’s a skater from Japan, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, you know who I am?” Somehow, it was more surprising than waking up in Victor’s body that the other man knew him.</p><p> </p><p>Yakov scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“I know all the young talent. So you must be excited to have woken up in Victor’s body. I came here because a neighbour called and said there was screaming.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m really sorry! I just… I didn’t think it would happen. T-Today.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not? Are you not 18?”</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri gulped. “N-No, I am, I just… assumed I was the older one.”<br/><br/></p><p>Yakov snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Victor thought he was the younger one. Does he know who you are yet?”</p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth to say no, when he remembered something <em>awful</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The posters.</p><p> </p><p>In his room.</p><p> </p><p>He whimpered. Victor was going to HATE him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mari was still laughing when they had finally shuffled Yuuri’s soulmate down to breakfast. Hearing her mother’s laughter so early in the morning had surprised them all – she had almost been in hysterics, and it had taken her a minute to be able to explain WHY she was laughing.</p><p> </p><p>When she had done so, Mari had lost it just as hard – her little, Victor-obsessed brother who was SO sure he was the older half of his pair was… well, his soulmate was the very man on his posters.</p><p> </p><p>Chuckling, she watched him polish off every bit of food their mother had prepared – that was to say, everything she could think of making. Yuuri was going to be SO mad once he found out how much his soulmate had broken his diet.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, if the posters were anything to go by…</p><p> </p><p>“So, Victor, how do you like it here?” She asked, almost hesitant to interrupt the man’s starry-eyed investigation of the onsen. He seemed interested in anything and everything, soaking it all up. Mari, being only two years older than Yuuri, hadn’t had her switch yet – she hoped her soulmate would be someone less… someone less.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s AMAZING! My soulmate has such a great place to live! I can’t wait to see it in person! Well, in my person.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm… do you want to see the hot springs?”</p><p> </p><p>Victor shot around, nearly falling over one of the low tables in the room.</p><p> </p><p>“THERE ARE HOT SPRINGS?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri was terrified as he followed Yakov to Victor’s rink. He’d seen it in pictures, never in real life. The coach had insisted he come along, unwilling to leave him alone in Victor’s flat for the day.</p><p> </p><p>As much as ‘outside’ terrified him, he also appreciated it – Yakov was a surprisingly calming person to have nearby when he wasn’t yelling. To his credit, since finding out his identity, he hadn’t yelled at him once.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri was quite grateful for that.</p><p> </p><p>He was less grateful when Yakov ordered him to put his skates on, warm up and get on the ice.</p><p> </p><p>He could only just <em>walk</em> – how in the world was he to skate?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Staring at his soulmate in the mirror, Victor knew he was already a little bit in love. The young man who stared back had the most AMAZING brown eyes, full of life, sparkly and so very beautiful. He liked the soft black hair – his own wasn’t nearly that soft – and even the little bit of chub the other had.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri Katsuki – Mari, the sister had told him the name – was no doubt <em>fit</em>, but there was just a little bit of extra chub around his waist, and he was absolutely loving it. Yuuri was shorter, and he could tell from how he felt as he moved, that he had a <em>lot</em> of stamina.</p><p> </p><p>“Vicchan?” A voice called and he peeked out of the bathroom – he hadn’t been sure if it was him or the poodle that Yuuri’s father had called for. He had been a little bit confused by the nickname until a snickering Mari had explained that Yuuri had named his dog after him – he had only set the tiny poodle down after that in order to eat and change clothes.</p><p> </p><p>How amazing was his soulmate anyway?</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! There you are. Are you going skating?” Yuuri’s father asked him, a kind smile on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“…Skating? Yuuri <em>skates</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>He corrected himself – he was more than just a little bit in love. Surely nobody before him had had a soulmate this fantastic?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri was sweating bullets as he introduced himself at the rink. To his relief, the other skaters there were perfectly nice and understanding… but he could still feel their eyes on him as he skated. It wasn’t any wonder – he wobbled a lot. Victor was taller, and while they were both quite fit, the Russian seemed to rely less on his flexibility to skate than Yuuri himself did.</p><p> </p><p>It made for an awkward first half hour – by the time Yakov called a break though, he had it figured out. Mostly.</p><p> </p><p>It was then that a younger skater – one of the youngest at the rink, a girl named Mila – approached him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yuuri… so I wanted to ask, do you want me to film you skating? You could, uh, skate a routine of yours. As Victor.”</p><p> </p><p>He gasped in shock.</p><p> </p><p>“W-What? No, I couldn’t! I’d only mess up. I’m sure Victor wouldn’t want that anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Yakov snorted, having apparently overheard them.</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, Katsuki, when I tell you that Victor will be <em>over the moon.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“But what if I mess up?”</p><p> </p><p>Mila gave him a beaming smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry! Just skate your favourite routine. It’ll be fine, I promise! He’ll be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>Happy sounded… good.</p><p> </p><p>Provided Victor still wanted something to do with him after he saw all of those posters. Soulmate or not, waking up in a room filled with memorabilia of <em>yourself</em> was… a lot to take in.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Yuuri’s childhood friend had offered to record his skating at Yuuri’s home rink, he had <em>jumped</em> at the chance.</p><p> </p><p>Well, after a lot of warming up. It had taken him over an hour to find his feet in Yuuri’s shoes, so to speak, and another hour until he was sure he could skate and jump without risking injury to his soulmate’s body.</p><p> </p><p>But THEN, he’d been all over Yuuko’s suggestion to film him. She’d even found him music of his previous routines.</p><p> </p><p>He’d been determined to skate at least two, maybe a third, however many he could manage before he was tired.</p><p> </p><p>He still felt fine after the fourth.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, he hadn’t jumped any quads – apparently Yuuri didn’t have any yet, and he didn’t want to take that first one from the other – but still… apparently, Yuuri was an absolute <em>demon</em> when it came to his stamina. He couldn’t wait to train side by side. No doubt, the other man would give him a run for his money.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t <em>wait</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Staring at the phone – Victor’s phone, language switched to English courtesy of the surprisingly considerate Yakov – was terrifying. It had been, by his count, almost 19 hours since they had switched – pretty much time for them to… well, to speak.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t help that he was back in Victor’s flat with only Makka for company.</p><p> </p><p>His nerves were going haywire already, and he hadn’t even typed his number in yet – when the phone rang.</p><p> </p><p>With… with his own number.</p><p> </p><p>He nearly dropped it in his haste to pick up.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” He greeted, his heart skipping a beat.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Yuuuri!” A voice greeted – his voice. Not that he sounded like himself – Victor’s accent and pronunciation made it sound different. Better, somehow.</p><p> </p><p>“H-Hello Victor. It’s nice to… talk to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, finally! I was getting sick of waiting for you to call, I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“O-Of course not.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence fell between them for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“U..Uh, Victor?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?” He could hardly credit how… excited Victor sounded. Was he maybe not disappointed by Yuuri after all?</p><p> </p><p>“Uhm… I… hope my room didn’t… freak you out? I know it must be weird, and…”</p><p> </p><p>Pearly laughter sounded through their connection.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you kidding? I LOVE it! How did you even <em>know</em> we were soulmates?”</p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri felt a smile steal across his – well, Victor’s – face.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe… it would be fine.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor did NOT want to go to sleep again after talking to his soulmate.</p><p> </p><p>Going to sleep meant switching back… and it meant no more Yuuri, at least for a while.</p><p> </p><p>Not long, if he’d have his way, and he knew he would.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t spent half an hour on the phone with the Japanese and Russian embassies to get an express visa for nothing after all.</p><p> </p><p>The flights from St. Petersburg to Japan had pretty much wiped out his savings, but he hadn’t hesitated once before buying them. Who would?</p><p> </p><p>Looking around Yuuri’s tiny room, he couldn’t help the grin he’d worn most of the day.</p><p> </p><p>There was a little more than an hour left before he’d fall asleep at midnight, voluntarily or not – he wanted to make it count.</p><p> </p><p>He’d already left Yuuri a note to find when he woke up, but it didn’t feel like enough.</p><p> </p><p>The idea came to him with just a few minutes left.</p><p> </p><p>He frantically dove for a pen, his grin widening even more.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Waking up in his own bed and body again felt… well, weirder to Yuuri than waking up in Victor’s had done. For one thing, he was quite exhausted – his muscles ached like after a particularly punishing training session, and he felt like he hadn’t gotten enough rest.</p><p> </p><p>Still, the familiar weight of his glasses on his nose felt good after not having them for a day. So did petting Vicchan. He half expected his poodle to be able to smell Makkachin on him, before dismissing the thought as stupid – it had been his mind that travelled, not his body.</p><p> </p><p>He was certainly glad that he hadn’t gotten the splitting headaches some pairs got after switching back – Yuuko had had a migraine for almost two days after her switch with Nishigori.</p><p><br/>His relief at being back, at things being… okay didn’t last long.</p><p> </p><p>Specifically, until he spotted first the note sitting on his desk. It wasn’t in his handwriting – of course. Victor had left him a letter. It barely even fit on the page and detailed exactly what he’d experienced in his time at Yuuri’s.</p><p> </p><p>His heart did a little twirl in his chest as he read – it was obvious Victor had liked his family.</p><p> </p><p>There was even a little doodle of Vicchan and Yuuri and Victor all together tucked into the corner.</p><p> </p><p>It was awful.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri wanted it framed.</p><p> </p><p>Then… well, then he spotted the posters.</p><p> </p><p>They weren’t exactly anything unusual – he’d hung them up himself. The <em>writing</em> on them.</p><p> </p><p>He looked around, his eyes widening more and more. Victor had written ON EVERY SINGLE POSTER IN HIS ROOM.</p><p> </p><p>Upon investigation, even the little framed picture on his desk had two post-it notes stuck to it.</p><p> </p><p>Gulping, he went to investigate the nearest poster and its messages.</p><p> </p><p>It was an older shot of Victor – one with his hair still long.</p><p> </p><p>‘Do you like the long hair better?’ the first comment read, with an arrow pointing at Victor’s ponytail.</p><p> </p><p>He scoffed. He liked Victor’s hair either way.</p><p> </p><p>‘I designed this costume myself!’ the next comment on the same poster read. He tried to do the math – Victor would have been maybe seventeen at most in the picture.</p><p> </p><p>The third and last comment was ‘I skated this program for you yesterday! Ask Yuuko.’</p><p> </p><p>Now that was a bit more problematic – had Victor… really skated as him? No doubt the other man had been horrified by how chubby Yuuri was – and he’d still watch it a hundred times if there was some sort of video of it.</p><p> </p><p>He moved on to the next poster.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor woke up with a ridiculous grin on his face and sprinted straight to his cupboard.</p><p> </p><p>Throwing his things in a suitcase didn’t take long at all – nor did dialling his coach.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Yakov! Yeah, I’m back. So listen, I’ve got a flight to Japan booked in a couple hours, can you give me a ride to the airport?”</p><p> </p><p>He immediately set the phone down, well-prepared for his coach’s screaming.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even listen, instead thinking about what Yuuri might think of what he’d done to his posters. He’d frantically scribbled as much as he could, before laying down with only minutes to midnight.</p><p> </p><p>Victor really hoped Yuuri liked it – he had no idea what to do if he didn’t.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He was still gaping at his favourite poster – former, favourite poster, now – when Mari came to check on him.</p><p> </p><p>It had been a shot from a photoshoot printed in a magazine just a year or so ago, and Yuuri had immediately taken to it.</p><p> </p><p>Victor on the other hand had… had disfigured it!</p><p> </p><p>It showed the man mid-spin, his arms held together, almost as if he was embracing someone. Well, now he was. Sort of. Victor had drawn a horrendous depiction of Yuuri – barely more than a wobbly stick figure, really.</p><p> </p><p>If it hadn’t been for the arrow that pointed at the monster and had his name above it, he might have thought poster-Victor was being attacked by something.</p><p> </p><p>“Yuu-chan?” His sister called again, and he turned.</p><p> </p><p>“You ready for some food?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m not that hungry…” His eyes were already scanning the next poster. It wasn’t that bad – Victor had added some little angel wings to Makkachin and commented how he hoped Yuuri would like her.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not surprised. Victor ate SO MUCH yesterday! Three whole servings of katsudon.”</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri gasped in shock – it’d take him forever to train that off again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Planes were <em>slow</em> Victor decided as he watched the one he was on approach the landing strip. He’d taken the first available… well, everything.</p><p> </p><p>Cab (after Yakov refused to give him a ride), plane, connecting plane, second connecting plane, train, and so on. He was almost where he needed to be – one train and one cab to go, and he would be with Yuuri again.</p><p> </p><p>In person.</p><p> </p><p>He could barely wait.</p><p> </p><p>He’d saved himself into Yuuri’s phone under ‘soulmate &lt;3’ before they’d switched back, but the other man hadn’t gotten in contact yet. His own phone didn’t have a contact, but he HAD spotted the videos – two of them, of <em>himself</em> skating.</p><p> </p><p>He’d watched them on the plane, squealing at how amazing Yuuri had done. The musicality was amazing – even without advanced jumps, he had to admit that the skating in the videos was better than what he as himself had managed lately.</p><p> </p><p>The length of the journey was just as well – he could understand if Yuuri needed a little bit of time to get used to it all, even if Victor was more enthusiastic.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri didn’t have the benefit of having the most amazing soulmate in the world either – no, that honour went to Victor. Grinning to himself, he waited for the bump that would let him know they landed.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t wait to meet the love of his life.</p><p> </p><p>Properly, anyway.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri stared at his phone.</p><p> </p><p>Had been staring for a good hour, probably. It was the same phone as before, except it had a new contact. Victor.</p><p> </p><p>The man had saved himself as a contact there… and he was thinking about calling.</p><p> </p><p>Had been for the whole hour he’d been sitting in front of the thing, actually. His battery was running low.</p><p> </p><p>Hesitantly, he pressed the call button.</p><p> </p><p>It barely rang twice.</p><p> </p><p>“Yuuri? Hiiii!” The other man greeted him, and suddenly Yuuri couldn’t even breathe anymore.</p><p> </p><p>He cleared his throat and tried again.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Victor.” He eventually managed to get out, blushing bright red even though the other man couldn’t see him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so glad you called!” Victor immediately babbled on – the same excitement as the day before. Clearly… clearly Victor didn’t hate him for being a weirdo fan.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry it took me so long.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, it’s fine. I couldn’t have picked up anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? Training?”</p><p> </p><p>Victor laughed – the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Because… well, it was Victor, and he was laughing because of <em>Yuuri</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, I was travelling. I’m sorry, I’m almost at my goal though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” Yuuri grinned to himself, imagining just for a moment what it might be like if his ‘goal’ was Yuuri… but no. Life didn’t work that way.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor couldn’t help himself – after getting himself, Makka and his stuff out of the cab, he left his suitcases where they were and ran off in search of Yuuri immediately. He barely waved hello to Yuuri’s family, who actually took his appearance in stride – he was too preoccupied with finding and hugging Yuuri.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, Yuuri wasn’t that hard to find – he sprinted up the stairs and to the man’s room. Without knocking, he yanked open the door.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri was staring up at him with wide eyes, the book he’d been reading slipping from his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Victor pounced.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri was still not entirely sure what was happening to him as six feet of Russian tackled him to the bed.</p><p> </p><p>He knew Victor was babbling something, and that he should probably be listening, but he was too busy with what he felt inside – like something that had been tense for a long time finally… relaxed a little. It was oddly overwhelming – all he could do was hold on to Victor.</p><p> </p><p>Victor.</p><p> </p><p>His childhood crush and… soulmate.</p><p> </p><p>Who had come to Hasetsu to see him.</p><p> </p><p>A bark from the door alerted him to the fact that Makkachin had come too.</p><p> </p><p>Was… Victor here to stay?</p><p> </p><p>How did he even feel about Yuuri?<br/><br/></p><p>Forcing his attention back on the other man, Yuuri blushed under his gaze. Soulmate or not, <em>Victor</em> was pressing him to a bed.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what do you think, Yuuri?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do I… think?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Do we live here? I can move but I’ll struggle with my coach. Do you want to come to St. Petersburg instead? You already know everyone there!”</p><p> </p><p>“You want to… live together?”</p><p> </p><p>Victor looked at him like he’d asked something incredibly stupid.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously! We’re soulmates, Yuuri! So what do you prefer?”</p><p> </p><p>“Anywhere is fine if it’s with you.” He blurted out, awe-struck when Victor first stared at him with huge eyes and then blushed slightly.</p><p> </p><p>He expected another cheerful answer, but instead, blue eyes fluttered closed and Victor bent down – to kiss him.</p><p> </p><p>Their first kiss was innocent – a gentle press of their lips together.</p><p> </p><p>When they pulled apart again, Yuuri was sure that he had the same love-struck expression on his face that Victor did.</p><p> </p><p>They weren’t sure, afterwards, who had said ‘I love you’ first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A World Apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri had been pretty upset when the indicator on his wrist had become legible. It had happened slowly, over a few weeks. The numbers were written in a dark pink that he actually liked – it wasn’t feminine, despite the fact that it was pink.</p><p> </p><p>The colour wasn’t the problem – it was the number.</p><p> </p><p>7 digits.</p><p> </p><p>The distance from his soulmate, the person he was meant to <em>be with</em>, measured in metres was… in the seven-digit range.</p><p> </p><p>It rarely shifted much either, the first few years. Just sat, consistently, at what he worked out to be about seven and a half thousand kilometres. He hated it.</p><p> </p><p>Hated it even more when Yuuko’s indicator, which had been a little slower to develop than his, in a lovely shale of dark yellow, had shown two digits… and then rapidly decreased when she’d called over Nishigori to show him.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t begrudge her the fact that they got together – he hadn’t really felt that way about her anyway, but he still couldn’t help but feel… lonely. People with lower distances often took a year off after school to find their other half, and really, they could just walk into any random direction and it would make a significant difference… but Yuuri?</p><p> </p><p>Seven thousand kilometres in any distance? That narrowed it down to large parts of Europe and the Americas. Really, all he knew was that his soulmate was neither African nor Australian. Rather useless info.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The first time it made a significant jump down was when Yuuri visited Tokyo with his parents for a skating exhibition. He’d begged to go, as had, no doubt, every other skating fan in the country.</p><p> </p><p>It was only on the way back home that he discovered something important – his counter had been <em>low</em>, down to three digits when he checked – possibly less before he’d noticed. It was increasing rapidly though – they were heading away from each other.</p><p> </p><p>He never told his parents – too busy cradling his wrist and swallowing the bitter feeling of having been so close without even knowing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Studying in America had been… well, a guess.</p><p> </p><p>An educated guess, in a sense – he’d visited the country before, to watch some skating tournaments… and sometimes, his counter had gone down too. His soulmate was in America at times.</p><p> </p><p>It had been enough to make the decision between Detroit and Tokyo – there at least, he definitely wouldn’t find them.</p><p> </p><p>Detroit brought the counter down by half a thousand kilometres – it sat around seven thousand.</p><p> </p><p>Not that he was watching constantly – his skating career was taking off, and he actually found it easier to focus on what he had, than what he couldn’t have.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>For Victor it was a matter of course to keep his eye on that counter on his wrist whenever he could.</p><p> </p><p>It had shown up early on him, when he had just been a child, in a dark, beautiful blue that made him smile every time he looked.</p><p> </p><p>The distance it indicated… well, that was less great.</p><p> </p><p>Still, over seven thousand kilometres wasn’t exactly as bad as it got.</p><p> </p><p>There were people with well over ten thousand kilometres.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, the fact that the distance barely if at all changed told him that he would have to be the one to travel, as much as possible to narrow it down.</p><p> </p><p>He would have pursued skating anywhere, but the travel certainly made it more appealing.</p><p> </p><p>The first time he made progress had been Japan. He’d been there for a junior event… and as the plane had approached, his counter had lowered so fast, he hadn’t been able to keep track of it. He’d nearly bounced out of his seat in excitement, showing Yakov who had… well, actually been pleased for him.</p><p> </p><p>He had a direction, a country.</p><p> </p><p>It was a start.</p><p> </p><p>It had gone down all the way to the low hundreds as they got to the event centre… and though Victor knew his soulmate couldn’t be watching his event, he skated his heart out, hoping his feelings would reach across their bond.</p><p> </p><p>He went home with a gold medal, a world record… but no soulmate.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His next attempt to go to Japan made things a LOT worse. It had been a while – events over there weren’t exactly a dime a dozen… but as he watched his wrist on the flight, his confusion only grew.</p><p> </p><p>It crossed the 11k mark as they landed. Clearly… clearly his soulmate was no longer in Japan.</p><p> </p><p>He had an app on his phone that could measure distances between cities – he had perfected his geographical guesswork.</p><p> </p><p>At just over eleven thousand, the most likely place was America.</p><p> </p><p>Just as well – America had a LOT of skating events.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri forced himself to keep his counter covered before skating events. His anxiety didn’t do well with seeing the shifting numbers there, especially when, sometimes, they dropped. Rapidly.</p><p> </p><p>Too much stress, too many expectations… too much.</p><p> </p><p>So, he bought a tight wristband and covered it. Pretty standard among athletes, really.</p><p> </p><p>He usually allowed himself a peek once he was done skating and back in his hotel – his record had been triple digits – just over 120 metres.</p><p> </p><p>There had been no helpful clues though – he’d gotten that close in Thailand, in America, once in Canada. Never quite the same distance… but so much closer than the seven thousand he’d started with.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor was going mad trying to find his soulmate. Surely, it shouldn’t be so hard? He already <em>knew</em> that it was someone who had something to do with skating – it was just too much of a coincidence to be anything else. But another skater? A reporter? A coach? There were so many options.</p><p> </p><p>Despite Yakov’s advice not to do so, he checked at every event, almost constantly. He’d gotten close before – just a few dozen metres, but that meant nothing in an arena with hundreds if not thousands of people.</p><p> </p><p>It was… almost impossible.</p><p> </p><p>Not a religious man by nature, he’d taken to praying, sometimes, for fate to just give them a little nudge closer together.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He couldn’t know for sure whether it was ‘fate’ exactly, that ended up giving him the best night of his life, but he wasn’t complaining. It was in Barcelona, another Grand Prix win. His soulmate was less than a hundred metres away… unfortunately, his suit made it difficult to check more closely at the banquet – and he hadn’t had time before that.</p><p> </p><p>He found himself distracted by something though – by a charming, beautiful<em> drunk</em> man that latched on to him early in the night. Another competitor – Yuuri Katsuki. For a moment he’d been hopeful, but then he’d remembered that Yuuri skated for <em>Japan</em>… not America, where his soulmate spent most of their time.</p><p> </p><p>Still.</p><p> </p><p>He spent the night with Yuuri, dancing, laughing, his heart lighter than it had ever been before.</p><p> </p><p>When he took Yuuri to his room later, he found himself whispering something he’d never even thought about someone else before – “I wouldn’t mind if it was you.”</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri hadn’t heard him though, too drunk, too tired.</p><p> </p><p>If it hadn’t been such an intrusion, he might have checked Yuuri’s indicator… but then, he also didn’t exactly want confirmation that it <em>wasn’t</em> Yuuri who was his other half. He wanted someone so very bright, so very… lively.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“What do you mean, that pig? Are you serious?” Yura asked, on their flight back.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean… well, no. I know it isn’t him. But I just… I liked him.”</p><p> </p><p>The teenager scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you so sure anyway? That it isn’t him?”</p><p> </p><p>Victor gently rubbed his wrist, his counter rising steadily.</p><p> </p><p>“Because he’s… from Japan. The distances don’t measure up.”</p><p> </p><p>“So? People <em>move</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but he skates for Japan. Probably trains there too.”</p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, Yakov leaned over.</p><p> </p><p>“Katsuki? He trains in Detroit with Celestino.”</p><p> </p><p>Victor’s fingers shook as he grabbed his phone and hastily typed in Detroit and St. Petersburg to calculate the distance.</p><p> </p><p>He took a sharp breath.</p><p> </p><p>It was… close. Too close to be a coincidence.</p><p> </p><p>“Yakov…” He began, unsure what he was going to say.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Vitya. Not before Worlds. He’ll be there, right?”</p><p> </p><p>He rubbed his wrist again.</p><p> </p><p>“Right…”<br/><br/></p><p>He had to know. Why was Yakov making him wait?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri was… glad to be back home. He’d missed his family, missed his hometown. Even if his counter taunted him with numbers in the seven digits… he was too emotionally exhausted to care much. He needed somewhere to get away, just for a little.</p><p> </p><p>The onsen, the rink, his family – it was just what he needed.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t make Worlds – of course not, not with a shitty performance like his.</p><p> </p><p>He forced himself not to watch Worlds either – he didn’t need the painful comparison to the other skaters.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Had he watched, he would have probably noticed something unusual – Victor Nikiforov staring at his wrist. Practically constantly. And, once the last of the men’s singles had skated, grinning at said wrist like a lunatic.</p><p> </p><p>Minako, who HAD watched, had… well, she’d had a hunch.</p><p> </p><p>Both Yuuri and Victor had outrageous numbers? It couldn’t be a coincidence.</p><p> </p><p>It just couldn’t.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>At first, going to the event in Paris and seeing the number climb higher had nearly broken his heart. Then he’d realised that Yuuri… didn’t seem to be at the event.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, that meant he didn’t get to see him again, but it was also as good as confirmation. A single Japanese skater absent at the biggest skating event of the year? Distance indicating Japan? The same area he’d been when they had been younger?</p><p> </p><p>Victor <em>knew</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, that only solved one of his problems.</p><p> </p><p>Did <em>Yuuri</em> know? Had he figured it out? Was he interested in… pursuing things?</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a question for Victor, but he wasn’t even sure if the other man <em>liked</em> his skating – nor if he felt as strongly for Victor as he had for the other man after the banquet.</p><p> </p><p>He’d always wondered if he fell for his soulmate, whether it would be because he knew they were destined to be together… but that wasn’t the case, not for Victor. He’d fallen for Yuuri <em>first</em>, when he’d thought there was no way it was him.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t sure whether it was that or the breath-taking video of Yuuri skating that made him pack his bags to fly to Japan. The skating in the video – it was as beautiful as any he’d ever seen, and it was VICTOR’S ROUTINE.</p><p> </p><p>If that wasn’t a ‘come hither’ aimed at him, then what was it?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Seeing Victor naked in his family’s onsen was… well, information overload for his brain, really. Not only was the man he’d been in love with for years NAKED, he was naked IN YUURI’S HOUSE.</p><p> </p><p>Ultimately, it was neither of those things that surprised him the most, though. That honour went to the sharp pain that seared through his wrist as Victor stretched out his hand towards him, very nearly touching him, the mirrored wince that Victor gave.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri didn’t even have to check the distance on his own wrist. The pain there, the fact that on Victor’s wrist, a dark blue ‘0’ sat, glaringly obvious on the pale man’s skin, it was all too obvious.</p><p> </p><p>He forced his eyes up from the other’s wrist to meet Victor’s… who winked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yuuuuri! Starting today, I’m your coach. I’ll help you win the Grand Prix Final!”</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri screamed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Technicolour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Victor was used to the world being in grayscale. It was fine – an honour, really. Not everyone was lucky enough to be born with a  soulmate, and thus completely colourblind. People had told him what an honour it was all his life.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t get it.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, it sounded interesting to have someone out there just for him, but why did it have to come at the cost of colours? He liked the idea of things being… different. He loved asking people who could see normally what it was like… their descriptions were never quite sufficient though.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to see, wanted to experience it for himself.</p><p> </p><p>Not that he wasn’t also interested in his soulmate – of course he was.</p><p> </p><p>Still, staring into his own eyes in the mirror each day, knowing they were blue and seeing grey was… frustrating.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri never <em>really</em> expected to see colours. Having been born colourblind, he’d accepted the existence of a soulmate as par for the course – but finding them was another matter.</p><p> </p><p>He was simply too good at math – he’d worked out the odds of meeting his other half, and he was more likely to win the lottery… which he also didn’t do, because it was still almost impossible to win anything at all.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t that bad, really – he didn’t see what was so great about colours anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing something was blue, or red, or green, it meant very little to him.</p><p> </p><p>Rarely, he came across something that made him feel differently.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to know what type of blue Victor Nikiforov’s eyes were, for example. Knowing that his hair really <em>was</em> grey had made him almost happy – that at least, he could see properly. It was… something.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor looked at everyone he ever met. At least for a moment, he’d make eye contact, just in case.</p><p> </p><p>Just in case… the world would bloom in colours as they looked at each other.</p><p> </p><p>It never did.</p><p><br/>So when he spotted Yuuri Katsuki, another competitor, after the Grand Prix Final, he was intrigued. He hadn’t ran into him before… and the other man seemed determined not to look at him at all.</p><p> </p><p>Victor wasn’t sure why it bothered him that he, specifically, was avoiding him – sometimes people did, not keen to look others in the eye, and he’d never cared, particularly.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he found himself looking at the banquet.</p><p> </p><p>Wondering. What colour were his eyes? That dreadful tie? The sweet flush on his cheeks as he drank?</p><p> </p><p>Victor wanted to KNOW.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri wanted to disappear.</p><p> </p><p>The GPF had been an unmitigated disaster, so all he wanted to do at the banquet was get drunk and disappear back to his hotel room to steam in his misery.</p><p> </p><p>Surely, that wasn’t too much to ask?</p><p> </p><p>Apparently it was, because Celestino abandoned him within minutes, and to make it worse, Victor Nikiforov WOULDN’T STOP STARING AT HIM.</p><p> </p><p>As if he didn’t feel like a loser already.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t need to be able to see colours to know that the medal around his neck was gold – like always.</p><p> </p><p>And Yuuri was a loser, drinking alone in a corner – like always.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Yuuri Katsuki threw himself at him after pole-dancing against Chris Giacometti, Victor hadn’t been <em>ready</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, he hadn’t been ready to see the shy skater pole-dance either, but that, he suspected, had more to do with his sudden but undeniable attraction to the other than anything else.</p><p> </p><p>But Yuuri, clinging to him, Victor supporting at least half his weight, that was different.</p><p> </p><p>Because, after a second of mumbling, Yuuri looked up at him, finally, FINALLY… and Victor learned what colour was.</p><p> </p><p>“Brown…” He whispered as everything slowly seemed to get… more intense. The only colour he was interested in though, was that of Yuuri’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t have to ask to know that they were brown… and they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, or ever would see.</p><p> </p><p>He was distantly aware that other people around them were staring, mumbling, that the carpet was a hideous shade of <em>yellow</em>… but nothing mattered, nothing outside of him and Yuuri.</p><p> </p><p>When Yuuri pulled him to the dancefloor and dipped him in a tango, he didn’t think for a moment about resisting or turning the other down. The ballroom, the other guests, they all faded into a technicolour blur… the only thing in focus for him was Yuuri.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Waking up with a splitting headache the moment after getting hammered wasn’t exactly unusual. Something was though – and it took him a bit to work out what.</p><p> </p><p>Things were looking… wrong. Different.</p><p> </p><p>The word ‘colours’ crept into his hung-over brain slowly.</p><p> </p><p>When it did, his stomach felt like it dropped out of his body. He had… he had met his soulmate. Probably at the banquet, at the very least at the hotel. And he had NO MEMORY of the evening.</p><p> </p><p>No idea who they were.</p><p> </p><p>How to find him.</p><p> </p><p>His probability calculations were probably laughing at him from somewhere in his uni work, he realised as he called Celestino to help him pack for their trip back.</p><p> </p><p>He moved on autopilot, devastated in knowing that he had missed one of the most important moments of his life… and that he would never know <em>for sure</em> who his soulmate was, even if someone showed up claiming to be it.</p><p> </p><p>That was, if anyone did so at all, because if they didn’t want HIM for a soulmate, who could blame them?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Victor was floating.</p><p> </p><p>Not literally, he was riding an elevator, but if someone had told him that he wasn’t touching the ground, he’d have <em>believed</em> them.</p><p> </p><p>Carrying two cups of coffee – one for him, one for the no doubt hung-over Yuuri, he made his way back to Yuuri’s room.</p><p> </p><p>The dreary hotel room wasn’t quite the backdrop he’d have chosen for the conversation they were about to have, but he didn’t care if it meant he’d get to see those brown eyes again.</p><p> </p><p>Brown he’d decided, would be his favourite colour.</p><p> </p><p>Knocking on Yuuri’s door, he could hardly wait to see the look of excitement, the same one Yuuri had shown the night before.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When he opened the door to reveal Victor Nikiforov, he was <em>horrified</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Not only did he not know what the other man was doing in front of, and subsequently <em>in</em> his room… he also found it hard to think. He was too distracted by the answer to a question he’d tried so very hard not to ask – what did blue eyes look like?</p><p> </p><p>The answer wasn’t any shade of blue, exactly, but more something like ‘stunning’.</p><p> </p><p>He silently accepted the coffee the other skater offered, and invited him inside.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever madness was going on, he didn’t have the energy to fight it… especially not when he found himself staring at a blue so much more beautiful than the sky.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“So… Yuuri… how are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hungover.”</p><p> </p><p>Victor chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not surprised. You drank a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“I… did? I mean, you saw?”</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously.”</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“I… I can’t remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Victor winced – he HAD had a lot… but enough to black out? How much was his soulmate missing?</p><p> </p><p>“Well, what DO you remember?”</p><p> </p><p>“Drinking. Then waking up here. The whole evening is gone.”</p><p> </p><p>He nearly dropped his coffee.</p><p> </p><p>The most important moment of his, of their lives… and Yuuri had forgotten?</p><p> </p><p>No.</p><p> </p><p>NO.</p><p> </p><p>Setting the cup down, he stepped closer to Yuuri, his heart breaking a little. Pleased when no resistance came, he took Yuuri’s cup too, and then gently pulled his arms around his waist… the way they’d been when their eyes had first met.</p><p> </p><p>Surely, it would spark something?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yuuri had no idea why Victor was… touching him. Making him… hug him?</p><p> </p><p>No, that wasn’t quite right. It was like he was leaning on Victor, for some reason.</p><p> </p><p>Too dumb struck to speak, he forced himself to look up, only to freeze in place.</p><p> </p><p>Blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>BLUE EYES.</p><p> </p><p>He’d seen them before.</p><p> </p><p>He’d seen them be <em>blue</em> before.</p><p> </p><p>Which meant…</p><p> </p><p>“You’re my soulmate.” He mumbled, half-expecting Victor to laugh him off, push him away, deny it.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, the Russian’s face melted into a soft, heart-shaped smile that did things to his heart.</p><p> </p><p>“YES! You remember. What else?”</p><p> </p><p>Adjusting his grip, he shrugged softly.</p><p> </p><p>“N-Nothing? Just… your eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>Victor’s smile didn’t falter in the least.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s a start. How about I tell you about the rest of what happened… over dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>Dinner. With Victor.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d love that.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dinner turned into a missed flight the next morning… and a missed replacement flight the day after that. It took both of their coaches combined ire to make them separate again – but not for long. Only for nationals, only until Worlds.</p><p> </p><p>Yuuri had all but given up on his season, but he’d found his motivation again – Victor.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to stand on the podium next to the other man.</p><p> </p><p>If he was honest, he wanted to be the one to look <em>down</em> to Victor on the podium.</p><p> </p><p>He’d looked up to Victor all his life, even when they had discovered their soulmate connection. It was time for Victor to look up to <em>him</em> for a change.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. (Im)Patience and Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Like with most babies, immediately after his birth, a nurse wrote Yuuri’s name, birth date and location on his skin. Hiroko Katsuki waited, breath held, to see what would happen – after a few seconds, the black letters faded from her new-born son’s arm – to appear on his soulmate’s somewhere.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She let out a breathless laugh – she was glad that Yuuri had a soulmate out there, somewhere. For Mari, the writing hadn’t disappeared – either hers hadn’t been born yet, or she was one of the few that didn’t have one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Such had been the case for her and Toshiya… and they’d still found happiness together. Still, having a soulmate… she’d wished it for all her children.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri squealed, his little arm jerking a little. Turning him carefully, she examined the arm in question – a large, awkwardly drawn red heart had appeared just a little below the letters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, Yuu-chan! It’s your soulmate! They’re happy you were born! Just like me!”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Growing up, Yuuri didn’t… draw on himself a lot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most kids with soulmates did, but not him. He was too fascinated by what his soulmate drew on himself to want to disturb it with his own. He was constantly covered in colours, in squiggles, in drawings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Often, drawings of dogs. They were his FAVOURITE!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Occasionally, he WOULD doodle something, usually in black pen, on the back of his hand, if there was space. The reaction was always the same – hearts. So many hearts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was comforting, actually, to know that his effort made someone, somewhere… happy.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor always kept markers in his pockets, even while training. It annoyed Yakov, but ultimately it was up to him, not his coach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He <em>needed</em> them – just in case his soulmate drew something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He rarely did, and it made it all the more precious when something appeared on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor loved the hesitant stick figures, the little sketches, the occasional bigger image if his soulmate felt like drawing something like a landscape.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The markers were to say thank you – in a way. He also loved the idea of his yet faceless soulmate having hearts littered all over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So what if he was a little possessive? It was the other half of his soul, his destined person.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time Yuuri was about sixteen, he was REALLY sick of the fact that tradition forbade other people from interfering in, or helping with soulmate pairings as they found their way to each other. He knew the other’s name – Vitya – but not much beyond it. They couldn’t ask their families to arrange a meet, nor did they have the means to meet by themselves – at least, Yuuri didn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure about Vitya.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They rarely spoke, usually communicating in the same drawings they had used since infancy… and it was grating on Yuuri.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wanted to get to know the other. He didn’t even conclusively know the other’s gender. Given his own gay leanings, it was likely a man,  but he didn’t know for sure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The amount of evenings he spent with a pen in his hand, desperate to ask the other to get to know each other better, to maybe try and meet… and every time, he would chicken out and fail.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t until the first time he drank alcohol that things started moving.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>As it turned out, he could NOT handle his booze. Of course, being only eighteen, he shouldn’t have been drinking at all, but he’d found himself curious – and the rest of the older students had been all too happy to pass him a few drinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He woke up with a droning headache to a flurry of notifications. All of them from a Google alert he’d set up on Victor Nikiforov. Even hungover as he was, that was… important.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The news were somewhat shocking. Apparently, Victor Nikiforov had shown up with some rather… wild drawings on his face. Soulmate marks, it seemed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The skater had chosen not to cover them up, for some reason. Yuuri had no idea WHY he had chosen to do so – they were… pretty embarrassing. Of course, part of the reason he felt that way was that someone that wasn’t him – Victor’s soulmate – got to draw on him like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hadn’t been sure if Victor had a soulmate at all – the man kept the topic out of his interviews and never answered questions on the matter. But still… as Yuuri stared at the drawings on Victor’s face, done in what appeared to be <em>black ink</em>, he couldn’t help but be a little mad at whoever had done it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sure, the swirls, waves and patterns were artistically pleasing, and sure they fit with Victor’s costume for the programme… but still!</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Skating his free program at the Olympic’s covered in his Yuuri’s marks had been a trip. Yakov had been mad, had wanted him to cover them… but no way was he going to do that! It was the first time EVER his soulmate had done more than draw small things on the back of his hands – it was a badge of honour to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure if his Yuuri watched him, saw the marks – nor did he know what had brought on the flurry of art on his skin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That didn’t matter though.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He still won gold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Back in the changing room, after the medal ceremony, he took off his costume to study the rest of himself. His face had only been the tip of the iceberg. Down his chest, his arms, even his thigh and stomach, all covered in various squiggles. He knew that a number of them were words – Japanese words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t exactly read the sloppy handwriting, despite his attempts to learn the language, growing up. It had been his mother, actually, that had pointed out that the birthplace of his Yuuri had been Japan after seeing that very first message on his skin so many years ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With how infrequently they talked, he doubted Yuuri even knew he was Russian, wasn’t sure if he knew his identity… but there could be no doubt now, that he’d skated with those marks all over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Twisting in front of the mirror, he took pictures of all the drawings – as many as he could, desperately wishing that he could preserve them, somehow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No such luck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Fidgeting with his pen again, Yuuri thought about what he might say to Vitya. For some reason, seeing Victor Nikiforov display his soulmate’s marks so openly, made him want to learn more about his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He quieted the voice that told him that he just wanted to get over the fact that Victor <em>wasn’t </em>his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He scribbled a quick note on his wrist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Do you like ice skating?’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Setting the pen down, he cringed. What was he, a child?</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor studied the writing on his wrist. It had appeared – rather poetically – after he’d wiped out on a quad loop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sitting in the changing room, icing the fresh bruise on his hip, he wondered what the answer was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was oddly perceptive of the other to ask. He did… usually.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Most of the time.’ He wrote back, with one of the pens that lived in his pockets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The reply didn’t take long – and it surprised him. Yuuri so rarely spoke much of himself… or much at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure what possessed him to reveal something so embarrassing, but as he watched the letters fade from his skin to appear on Vitya’s, he was also glad he’d said it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘I’ll be competing internationally this year. In figure skating.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had taken up half his arm, even in his small handwriting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The response was… hearts? Colourful hearts, all over his hand, it seemed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He smiled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Will you watch me?’ He scribbled in tiny letters on his palm, half hoping the other wouldn’t even notice it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘OF COURSE!’ appeared in capital letters, along the full length of his forearm, not much later. It overlaid with the hearts already there, making it look so much more exuberant than the black ink alone would have done.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor took the day of Yuuri’s international debut off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not just to watch the debut itself, but also to watch every single video of Yuuri skating on the internet. He hadn’t even known the other man followed in his footsteps, and it was downright CRIMINAL that he hadn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The younger man was beautiful – both on the ice and off it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d never really thought about what his ‘type’ was… until he saw Yuuri, hair slicked back in a way that made him feel a little warm, brown eyes so focused. He couldn’t understand what the interview he had watched was about, but it was the first look at the other man he’d ever gotten… well, he was loving it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Watching him skate filled Victor with a sense of pride he didn’t quite understand – but it didn’t truly matter. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to see and feel <em>more</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Skating internationally was… stressful, to say the least. So many new voices, people, things… he hadn’t truly been prepared. He spent much of his time inside, hiding, even.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When marks appeared on his skin, he didn’t even look. He had no idea if Vitya had watched him, but… but he wasn’t prepared for the other’s comments, whatever they might be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time he was back home, it had all faded away – his skin was as blank as it usually was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Somehow, coming back after skating abroad, he had an even harder time than before, writing to Vitya.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wanted to… but what could he say?</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>After having seen Yuuri skate in videos, it became Victor’s singular focus in life to meet him, as soon as possible. That… wasn’t easy. He had almost no free time to himself, certainly not enough to fly to Japan, even if he HAD known where to go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri probably didn’t either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He considered many times to just give the other his number, maybe, but that didn’t… seem right. He knew it was just silly traditions, and that the whole finding your way to your soulmate thing didn’t <em>have</em> to be done the ‘right’ way… but it was Yuuri, and for him, Victor wanted things to be perfect.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So began his time of planning – and of pining, if he was honest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri was… quiet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Quieter than usual.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t know why, but it was hard to keep up his own responses as well – the hearts and colours he marked on himself grew rarer and rarer as he feverishly worked towards their first meeting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took him nearly a year, until he had all the skating officials where he needed them and managed to actually influence the placements of the Grand Prix nominees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He only cared about two names – Yuuri’s and his own. They HAD to share an event. The first one – Skate Canada. He wasn’t waiting even a day longer than necessary to meet his Yuuri.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Attending Skate Canada was another surreal experience for him. Not only had he not expected to be a Grand Prix nominee at all, he also hadn’t expected to be at an event with… with Victor Nikiforov, not yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He spotted the man surprisingly often – in the hotel lobby, at the practice rink, seemingly everywhere he went. He knew the other man was friendly with his competitors, and Yuuri didn’t want… well, he didn’t want to risk seeing Victor up close and then having to see some more of the soulmate marks his mate was obviously so fond of drawing on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sure, none of his public appearances since that first one had featured any, but… but.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides, his mind kept wandering to his own soulmate – Vitya. Thoughts of him had become a fixture in his mind, almost bringing him comfort when he was anxious. Well, sometimes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Focusing on training, on preparing to skate, while dodging Victor and without even having Vitya to talk to – they hadn’t spoken in months and he didn’t know how to break the silence – was difficult.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So was the short program. He didn’t do <em>awfully</em> – he came in fourth out of six. He certainly could have done better, though… and it grated on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The knock on his hotel door later that night caught him off-guard. He opened – of course. Outside stood perhaps the last person he ever expected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor Nikiforov.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His mind racing, he watched as a smile spread across the man’s face – it was beautiful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi, Yuuri! It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve been waiting to get to know you for a long time, so I-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri took a step back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>No</em>!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He slammed the door shut and dove into his bed, covers over his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Of the thousands of possibilities for their first meeting he’d considered, outright rejection and HORROR had not even occurred to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was left staring at the closed the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What… what was he supposed to do? WHY had Yuuri rejected him? Had he done something wrong?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He felt tears sliding down his cheeks even as he stood frozen in front of the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, his fingers found the ability to move again, and he scrambled for his pen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Handwriting shaky, he wrote over his left wrist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Why?’</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Seeing a message from Vitya appear on his skin had been the last thing he expected that night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, it didn’t help that this message was also the most confusing the other had ever sent – just one word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t understand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Why what?’ he wrote back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first reply was a series of sloppy exclamation marks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Why did you reject me?’ was the next line scrawled on his skin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It made even less sense than the last one – when had he rejected Vitya? The only person he had even dealt with just now had been…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri screamed.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor stared at his arms through a veil of tears, desperately willing another answer to appear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What had he DONE?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why didn’t Yuuri want him? Sure, he’d bent the rules to make them meet sooner, but… but! Surely that was no reason to reject him?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Staring at the patch of blank skin he knew Yuuri’s reply would appear on, if he were to reply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor had never truly been upset by Yuuri’s silence – he understood the other man needed space, lived at his own pace.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor had assumed they would naturally slot together, somehow. Somehow…. Right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But his arm stayed blank.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t reply.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri <em>couldn’t</em> reply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was still staring at his skin, his mind trying to figure out what it was being confronted with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It made no sense – except for the fact that it made perfect sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, almost perfect sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The thing that didn’t was the day Victor had skated covered in marks. Yuuri would have REMEMBERED if he’d drawn on his own face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except would he? After frantically looking through his phone for the date, he realised that it was the date he’d first had alcohol. He’d been drunk. Did he really remember what he had and hadn’t done that night?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d <em>thought </em>he remembered just going straight to bed, but could he really trust his memory? People only had one soulmate. And if his was Victor… then…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Trembling, he put the pen to his arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had to make sure.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Why did you skate with my markings on you?’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor watched as finally, FINALLY, words appeared on his arm – they weren’t what he’d expected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least they were something he could reply to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Because YOU gave them to me. I was surprised.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The beginnings of their conversation had already faded from his skin again – he hated that the marks didn’t always last very long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri’s next reply came quicker.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Surprised?’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wiped his tears and did his best to steady his hand. Apparently Yuuri was ready to talk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘You’d never done that before.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘I was drunk.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor winced – a reasonable explanation, but… but he’d hoped it had been more than that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Did you like that I kept them?’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was the most important part – after all, he’d done it because he hoped the other might see it and be happy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘No. I was jealous.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jealous?” Victor yelled in the privacy of his room – of WHAT?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He quickly scribbled a series of question marks on his arm – sloppy, taking up too much space.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The reply took a while.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘I was drunk. I didn’t know the marks were mine.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor sighed – that… explained a lot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Almost too much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘You didn’t know I was your soulmate.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘No.’ Yuuri replied almost instantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor was starting to have to contort himself to find free patches of skin to write on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘When did you realise…?’ He wrote on a patch near his elbow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The answer took a moment – or at least it took him a moment to realise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri hadn’t written on his left arm, but rather on the right one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘My room?’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor took off running as fast as he could.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t TRULY believe that Victor Nikiforov could be his soulmate, not until the man hammered on his door a few minutes after he’d awkwardly scribbled on his right arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alas, that was what he saw when he opened after a rather loud knock.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor Nikiforov, dishevelled, Yuuri’s handwriting all over his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wordlessly invited the other man in, unsure what else he was supposed to do – what could he say? What was he SUPPOSED to say?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi.” Victor eventually greeted him, his voice so very gentle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri flinched, still unable to speak.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When… when did you figure out I was your soulmate?” Victor asked after a minute of silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I… I didn’t. Not <em>really</em>. I’m not sure I believe it now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To his surprise, Victor scoffed and pulled a marker from his pocket. Yuuri watched as he reached out and drew on Yuuri’s cheek – moments later, on Victor’s cheek, a small pink heart appeared. Yuuri KNEW those hearts. He’d seen them on his arms in all sorts of colours for years.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His fingers reached out of their own volition to touch the mark on Victor’s cheek. He gasped when his fingers connected with the soft skin there, then again when Victor eagerly leaned into his touch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You… you are my soulmate?” He found himself whispering.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor nodded, still leaning into Yuuri’s touch.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor’s heart was soaring – it didn’t <em>look</em> like Yuuri was rejecting him. It didn’t feel like rejection how Yuuri touched him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It felt like… it felt like a <em>beginning</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pressed his hand to Yuuri’s, pleased when the other man didn’t pull back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So… you’ve known? All along?” Yuuri asked, his voice still quiet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes! I’ve been waiting for you to finally make it to the international circuits so we could meet on the ice. I even pulled a few strings so we could meet… here. Now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri huffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So… you cheated?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor pursed his lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not very patient. Besides, I waited almost twenty years, didn’t I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To his delight, Yuuri flushed pink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well… I don’t mind? That you cheated? I just… I panicked. When you were at my door. I was… I didn’t skate well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Holding Yuuri’s hand in place, he stepped firmly into the other’s personal space.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“THAT is nonsense. It’s your first Grand Prix and you’re in 4<sup>th</sup> after the short. That’s amazing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri’s blush only deepened – Victor could already see himself complimenting him more and more to keep it going.</p>
<p><br/>“But… but… I… I didn’t do as well as you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor fought back the whispering voices he’d heard all his life – the expectations, the demands, the assumptions people made… but he was sure his soulmate wasn’t like that. He smiled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re younger than me, and you haven’t had as much training. Besides… I think you did wonderfully.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri felt himself blushing more and more – how could this be real?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I… I started skating because of you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor tilted his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought you didn’t know who I was?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t… I just… I saw you skate? On TV, years ago. You inspired me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor laughed, a breathless <em>delighted</em> sound that did wonderful things to Yuuri’s insides.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That... is amazing, Yuuri!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve always wanted to meet you. On… on the ice.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>“Oh? To compete with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He found himself nearly confirming Victor’s assumption, but then he stopped – was that… really true? Had competing with Victor made him happy? Even before he’d known Victor was his soulmate, he hadn’t even paid it much mind, had he?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Slowly, he shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“N-No? I mean… I thought so, but… but I wasn’t even thinking about skating against you, not really. I was… I was thinking about my soulmate. Vitya…”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor blushed red, an unusual occurrence for him. Hearing Yuuri’s soft voice pronounce that nickname… he hadn’t been prepared.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gripping Yuuri’s hand tighter, he fumbled for something to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d HOPED that Yuuri saw him as more than a competitor, as more than just Victor Nikiforov, the skater, but he still hadn’t expected that Yuuri’s thoughts were preoccupied with the version of him the other man knew.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And… and what were you thinking?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That I missed being able to talk to you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was the day I first premiered internationally. I… didn’t know if you knew me. If you watched me. I couldn’t stand the sight of what you might think of my skating. And after that… it just got harder and harder each day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor nodded – he could… understand that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, his thoughts went down a much more important road.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wrote probably a whole essay about how spectacular your skating is! You skate so elegantly, like you make the music you skate to. It’s… beautiful. I always thought so. Even if you don’t get top scores.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Am I dreaming?” Yuuri mumbled, genuinely wondering – how else could his idol, his <em>soulmate</em> tell him things like that?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It made no sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On a whim, Yuuri leaned up, brushing their fronts together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor’s reaction was a gasp – but a pleased one. His heart racing, Yuuri leaned even closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh Yuuri… this is definitely real.” Victor practically breathed into the space between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri found himself nodding, much of his confusion and doubt slowly draining away. His eyes darted to the heart on Victor’s cheek, covered as it was by his hand, still.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was REAL.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were… real.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want to skate on the same ice as you.” He whispered to the other, his free hand coming to rest on the other man’s shoulder for balance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor’s hand wrapped around his waist, holding him close. It wasn’t necessary – he wasn’t looking to pull away, not any time soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh? Tomorrow? At the free skate?” Victor’s tone was amused… but Yuuri was quite serious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. How about… how about after? At the exhibition skate? I want to skate… together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor laughed once he understood what Yuuri meant. Skating together, yes – but not in competition, but in harmony.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not even his Olympic medal had felt so… <em>right</em> as did that thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before he could think better of it, he leaned down those last few inches, to close the gap between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes fluttered shut at the same time as Yuuri’s, a second before their lips met.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was heaven.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kissing Yuuri felt divine – he was hardly even aware when Yuuri’s hold on him shifted, tightened, and the other man pulled himself up. Victor stumbled as legs wrapped around his waist – Yuuri was completely clinging to him, and he found himself stumbling over to the bed, unceremoniously dropping Yuuri.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His body was moving on autopilot – and no doubt, Yuuri’s was too. There was no trace of hesitation, of shyness, left in the other – only the same hunger he felt himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Staring up at Victor, panting above him as he was, Yuuri found himself completely free of all his usual anxiety. He didn’t have it in himself to worry about any of the things he might have been bothered by otherwise – not whether or not he was too fat, whether Victor was disappointed when he saw him bare – nothing like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was only sensation, and a warmth in his chest that it took him a moment to identify.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Love. It was… love. Not the kind he’d felt looking at his posters as a horny teenager, but the kind that he instinctively knew he could only feel for a soulmate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They fit together perfectly. There was no need to ask, no awkwardness like one might expect between first time lovers – just pleasure, love, and eventually, satisfaction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri had never felt more at peace than when he cuddled down next to Victor afterwards.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Standing on the podium and staring down at his soulmate, Victor couldn’t help the silly grin on his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d taken gold – of course – and Yuuri, coming back from fourth place, had managed to take silver. Chris – originally expected to come in second – had had to make do with third. He didn’t think his friend minded all that much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nor did he care, particularly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Reaching out, he was pleased when Yuuri took his hand immediately, even in public. Even on the podium. Before he could change his mind, he tugged and pulled Yuuri up to his level. They had already completed the ceremony itself, the medals around their necks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grinning at the baffled expression on Yuuri’s face, he pulled the medal off over his head and placed it around Yuuri’s neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The younger man looked even more baffled – but then, he had no right to complain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victor had skated all the way through his free program before he’d been informed of the writing on his neck and cheek – in Japanese Kanji, Yuuri had written his own name on his, and thus, Victor’s face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Such a public declaration deserved a <em>response</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t seem upset – merely startled when a wild flurry of camera flashes went off around them and Chris quietly chuckled and cat whistled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He still wondered a little, if Yuuri might be upset after all – at least, until Yuuri leaned up and pressed their lips together in a kiss.</p>
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